Inside The Panny Pt. 2
Real life, Grand Theft Auto, is that you?
Heatwaves and power outrages have always stalked to disrupt summer in New York City. However, inside the panny sirens and the echoed screams that terrorized DAY were an added bonus.
I’ve not been a fan of news cycles since yellow journalism made it’s way onto the regurgitation of 24 hour play, and I did not fold inside the panny. The reality of discord and blatant disregard for human life happening in the streets set in as a video(that one) was circulated, reposted, shared, and broadcast on repeat for anyone within glance of a screen — a modern day lynching. Everyone was informed, pissed TF off, and the beige could no longer be ambivalent. This time there was no escape.
RACISM — “Now a bigger audience with even bigger ratings.”
I was well aware of the destruction and treatment that has plagued this country, so I did not watch. I have enough blood trauma from my ancestors. What sparked my anxiety was the omnipresent sirens. The: running over of civilians, protesters on bottlenecked bridges, riots, arrests, and a curfew that was grey-zone at best riddled DAY with a now all to familiar noise. This was the brave new world we lived and one thought began to consume me — “Were they coming for me?” Even though I had done nothing wrong there was no way for me to be sure and my nerves were on my last nerve. The resemblance that I was already in jail washed over me as I took a look around and saw bars on my windows. Had I unknowingly and very unwillingly become a prisoner? Was I going to have to start using single sheets of toilet paper? Was delivery still an option or was I now a DiGiorno man? Absolutely not! That’s where I draw the line. My eccentricities were starting to get the best of me. I knew the sirens were not coming for me physically, just my mental health. I had reached a turning point and needed to find a way out.
Communication was pivoted to devices and DAY was lifted for some as the heartbeat fluttered ever so slightly outside. I, however, was not a part of that sum. The possibility and actuality of work for me depended heavily on the continuance of DAY, so I obliged. My mind counted anything tangible for sanity sake inside my bedroom cell when I curiously found myself(with the help of an ally) intertwined and perfoming in an online nightclub/show. I had found my way out. Harnessing energy through what I could hear outside and my squirrel gang duels I was determined to gave back and feel what I could through the screen. My meager schedule allowed DAY to be lifted for me, as well. I was in the flutter.
Over the course of the run the flutter became a pull and the pull became a pump. The playground on the screen was full and the wild outside was back when all of a sudden…shots fired!
“This is it. This is how I go.”
My anxiety was back as I ducked for cover. I waited. Nothing. I stoood up and a sporadic slew of bangs and pops filled the ambient noise. It was not gunshots. It was fireworks, and THEY DID NOT STOP. The show must go on so I thought to myself, “I guess I’m going to use it.” Five minutes…!
